


Home for the Holidays

by I_Am_Your_Dentist



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas sex, Edging, M/M, hey I've been gone for two years time to fuck and also be extremely sappy while doing it, this gave me a cavity while writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28327431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Am_Your_Dentist/pseuds/I_Am_Your_Dentist
Summary: He should have realized, though: Crowley was not a creature meant to stagnate. He wasn’t fit for staying in one place and burrowing into comfort. Aziraphale had always been the one who wore clothes for centuries just because he liked them, who kept to a routine worn smooth by millennia of repetition. Crowley was the one who was always changing, always moving, and even in a place where he was happy, Aziraphale could see he was becoming antsy.And so, though it pained him to do so, he told Crowley to go.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 91





	Home for the Holidays

It was that magical time of night on Christmas Eve. The time when all the shops had closed and the streets were quiet. The softly falling snow left the night feeling muffled and ethereal, though curiously the weather channel had predicted no snowfall. One of those Christmas miracles, the people of London would murmur, wrapped up warm and happy in their homes with mugs of cocoa cupped in their hands and loved ones no more than a room away.

  
Nestled in a little corner of Soho, a bookshop owner who never seemed to age or sell a single book, who kept odd hours and whose smile always seemed to have something secretive about it, was just putting the finishing touches on a batch of Christmas cookies. The smell of sweets lingered in the tiny back room that doubled as his flat, and he settled in to let them cool with a contented sigh.

It was almost a perfect evening. Except…

  
He glanced almost longingly at his phone, which hadn’t rung even once the whole day. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Half a dozen people called in search of some last-minute Christmas gifts. The particular tomes they had been seeking had gone mysteriously missing from his shelves when he went to check. Regardless, it didn’t ring for the one person he had hoped would be calling.

  
It had been six years since the world didn’t end. A blink of an eye for him, and for his dear friend Crowley. In the months directly afterward, they spent nearly every day together, dining together and drinking wine and enjoying each other’s company without the heavy weight of their opposing sides on their shoulders, in the back of their minds almost constantly. Just the freedom to be himself, and to openly admit just what he felt for his companion.

  
Their feelings for each other had been an open secret for so long, it was never a matter of if, but when. When would one of them make the leap from friendship to more? Now, when the shackles were finally gone, when they didn’t have to hide, when would their relationship change?

  
To everyone’s surprise, it had been Aziraphale who finally made that jump. Aziraphale, who had always been so careful and so guarded with his affections, had taken Crowley’s hand one day as they waited out a downpour in the Bentley, leaned in toward a confused yet hopeful demon, and kissed him.

  
Once he’d done so he was struck with how easy it had been. As if they’d been doing this for millennia. As if they’d only kissed yesterday. Aziraphale’s fingers had stroked through that fiery red hair, damp from the rain, and kissed with an affection he could only have dreamt of showing before now. Crowley’s return kiss was hesitant, inexperienced, but no less enthusiastic, fingers gripping Aziraphale’s shoulders like a question.

  
_Is this okay?_

_  
Is this too fast?_

_Am I allowed to have this?_

_  
_Aziraphale answered that question with an enthusiastic yes, even more enthusiastically once he’d invited Crowley into the privacy of his bookshop backroom. Their clothes were soaked, and they’d both decided to keep any miracles to an absolute bare minimum.

  
As they say, one thing led to another.

  
The three years following had been the happiest time of Aziraphale’s entire existence. Each day was filled with Crowley at his side, in his arms, sharing in each new experience together. It was a paradise of their own making that Aziraphale never wanted to end.

  
He should have realized, though: Crowley was not a creature meant to stagnate. He wasn’t fit for staying in one place and burrowing into comfort. Aziraphale had always been the one who wore clothes for centuries just because he liked them, who kept to a routine worn smooth by millennia of repetition. Crowley was the one who was always changing, always moving, and even in a place where he was happy, Aziraphale could see he was becoming antsy.

  
And so, though it pained him to do so, he told Crowley to go.

  
It took some time, but eventually they settled into a new sort of routine. Crowley would call nearly every night before he went to sleep and tell Aziraphale about his day. All the exciting people he’d met and the things he’d done. Aziraphale’s heart ached to see him in person, but he had never liked traveling. He was too old, and too comfortable in his ways. Likewise, he knew Crowley missed him, but he couldn’t be tied down forever. This was how it had always been before, and they’d sometimes gone centuries without seeing each other. Surely a few years was nothing?

  
It had been a week now since Crowley had last called. Aziraphale had tried to keep his mind busy, reading books and going out to eat and trying to keep himself staring longingly at the phone. Crowley had always called him. That was how they did things. Whatever was keeping him this time, he would call again, surely. Any day now.  
He stepped closer to the phone, his hands fretting at the front of his waistcoat. Should he call Crowley this time? Unless…Crowley didn’t want to talk to him? Or what if something had happened to him? Fear gripped him suddenly, imagining the forces of Hell or Heaven catching up to Crowley and dragging him away, finding a way to destroy him forever. Aziraphale would never know for sure what had happened. Oh, how could he have been so stupid to just let Crowley go alone?

  
A knock on the door interrupted his errant thoughts, causing him to let out a startled yelp. Who could that be at – he fumbled for his pocket watch-10:30 pm? No customer would be visiting right now, in fact no human should have been out in the snow right now. The knock came again as he inched warily toward the door.

  
It could be a demon, or Gabriel, come to gloat about Crowley’s demise, but if that were the case why bother with the courtesy of knocking? Unless it was to get him with the element of surprise? His hands continued to fret, never being still for even a moment as he crept toward the door. There was nothing for it, he had to open the door. If he didn’t, and it was one of their enemies, he’d never know what happened to Crowley. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself, Aziraphale unlocked the door and threw it open.

  
“’Bout time. S’bloody freezing out here.” Crowley pushed past him into the bookstore, rubbing his hands together to try to warm them. White snow clung to the deep red of his hair, giving him a delightfully wild look. He turned to grin at Aziraphale, but was cut off by the angel throwing himself into his arms. “Oof! Nice to see you, too, angel.”

  
“You didn’t call!” Aziraphale was near tears, clinging to Crowley so tightly that if he’d needed to breathe he would be having trouble with that particular function at the moment. “Not for days! I-I-I thought…”

“Oh. Oh, angel, hey, it’s okay.” Crowley’s arms went around him, long fingers stroking his hair. “I lost my mobile. Shoulda tried to contact you another way but I thought…well, I was already in the neighborhood.” His chin hooked over Aziraphale’s head as the angel burrowed his face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Didn’t think, ya know?”

  
“Evidently not.” They stood there in the doorway for a moment, just holding each other, until Crowley began to shiver.

  
“Not to complain, but uh…the door?”

  
“Oh!” Aziraphale dislodged himself and shut the front door to the shop, which had remained hanging open, locking and bolting it for good measure. When he was done, he turned back to the demon, and noticed how wet and cold he was. “Oh, you poor thing. Come on, let’s get you a warm bath.”

  
“Please.” Crowley was a cold-blooded creature by nature, and sensitive to extreme temperatures. When Aziraphale took his hand, the fingers were like ice. He gripped them tighter, trying to warm them as much as he could with his own body heat, and led him to the small bathroom in his backroom flat.

  
In no time at all, Aziraphale had a steaming bath drawn and Crowley was sinking inside with a happy sigh. His hair had gotten longer, and hung over the side of the tub in a crimson wave. As tall as he was, he only barely fit, his knees peeking above the water, but he didn’t seem to mind as he settled in contentedly.

  
Aziraphale made himself busy gathering the hair care products Crowley had left behind, setting them one by one in the demon’s reach. He tried not to stare too much, but he couldn’t really help it. It had been almost two years since they’d seen each other in person. His heart was soaring, but he couldn’t let go of his anger over Crowley going so long without contacting him. When he’d set the last of the products on the floor next to the tub, he straightened and made to move for the door. Crowley’s hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, water dripping down his hand and soaking the cuff of his coat.

  
“Please stay.” His eyes, those beautiful eyes he’d missed so dearly, were pleading. Aziraphale’s anger warred in his head for a moment, then began to fade. He couldn’t be angry with Crowley, not really. Not when he was finally here in front of him. He sighed and pulled up a stool to sit on.

  
With delicate touches, he began to wash Crowley’s hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp as the demon melted into his touch. The contented little moans made his chest ache. Oh, how he’d missed his love so much. Clothes be damned, he leaned forward and embraced him, holding the demon tightly to his chest and burying his face in his hair.  
“I’ve missed you terribly,” he murmured, kissing just above his ear. “Love, why didn’t you tell me you were planning to visit?”

  
“Told you. Lost my mobile.” Crowley laid his head back on Aziraphale’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “Was kind of an impulse decision. Just…wanted to see you.”

  
Aziraphale chuckled. “How very sappy of you, darling.” He pressed a kiss to his neck. “How very _nice_.”

Crowley shivered a bit and shifted in the bath. “Angel,” he murmured. “Gonna get your clothes all wet if you keep this up.”

  
“Perhaps.” Aziraphale smiled, tilting Crowley’s neck so he could press a kiss to his throat. “Perhaps I should take them off, hm?”

  
“Probably.” To Crowley’s great disappointment, Aziraphale stood and left the room. He only had a moment to wonder what had happened before the angel reappeared with a big fluffy towel.

  
“Come now, out of the water, let’s go.”

  
“Aw, angel, I’m still cold.” Crowley’s voice took on a distinctly whiny tone, but he did as requested, stepping into Aziraphale’s arms and letting him wrap the towel tightly around him.

  
“I’ll just have to warm you up, then, shall I?” Aziraphale’s voice was teasing in his ear as he gathered his demon close, hands under his thighs as he lifted him up like he weighed nothing. Crowley let out an undignified squawk as he held on for dear life. He’d forgotten how strong Aziraphale was, and the reminder made him swoon just a bit.

  
Aziraphale dropped Crowley on his bed and took a step back to begin stripping off his own clothes. He wrinkled his nose at the wet sleeves and the shoulder of his coat, telling himself it was just water and it would be fine, there wouldn’t be any lasting damage. Crowley squirmed impatiently on the bed as he meticulously hung up each piece over the small radiator near the window, where they would dry properly without wrinkles. He ignored his demon until he had removed every stitch, then turned with a little smirk.

  
“Now…” He moved toward the bed, crawling over his love and pressing a kiss to his lips. Their first in two years, he realized abruptly, and was nearly overwhelmed as he pressed closer for another kiss. One hand skimmed down Crowley’s side, reacquainting himself with the demon’s form. His thumb rubbed along the familiar pattern of snakeskin at his hip bones. “Crowley, love, please roll onto your stomach for me.”

  
“Mm?” Crowley, who had been trying to coax Aziraphale into a deeper kiss, frowned. “Why? I wanna see you.”

  
“And you will. Of course you will. But first…” The angel’s hands moved down to Crowley’s thighs, fingers just barely brushing against the lovely cunt he’d manifested. “Darling, surely you can’t deny me a little indulgence?”

  
Crowley let out a little moan at that, and quickly flipped over onto his stomach, a pillow under his hips. He was so exposed like this, at Aziraphale’s mercy, but of course he trusted him. His angel would take care of him, like he always had. Whether it was two years ago or yesterday, Crowley’s body remembered that touch.

  
Ever the insufferable tease, Aziraphale liked to take his time when he had Crowley like this. Fingers skating over thighs and buttocks, sucking and nipping his way over sensitive skin and trailing kisses up his spine, it was frustrating in the best kind of way. For Crowley, whose instincts usually demanded a quick and hard fuck, Aziraphale’s insistence on making slow love and teasing him relentlessly was both amazing and terrible. His fingers tangled in the sheets and he huffed impatiently, but remained still and let the angel do as he liked. He knew from experience that complaining would only make him go slower.

  
He tensed only briefly when he felt Aziraphale’s tongue swipe over him, just enough to part his lips but not nearly where he needed it to be. He gripped the sheets tighter, fighting the urge to reach down and touch himself. When the first finger breached him, he clenched down on it eagerly, his hips twitching back to try and take it deeper.

  
“Patience, love,” Aziraphale murmured, kissing his hip. The one finger turned into two, into three, and suddenly the teasing could barely be called that. His thighs shook as those fingers stroked against his sensitive inner walls, little moans and whimpers escaping his lips. A muffled curse came when Aziraphale’s tongue unexpectedly lapped over his clit, making his whole body spasm.

  
“Angel,” he moaned, bucking his hips back in an obvious plea. “Please…need you…”

  
“Not yet.” It was frustrating to hear how prim and proper Aziraphale still sounded, even though Crowley could see from his vantage point his cock was hard against his stomach. The demon groaned and buried his face in the pillows as Aziraphale continued to finger-fuck him. He was too close to argue, could feel his orgasm approaching. _Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna…_

  
Aziraphale very abruptly pulled away, and a broken whine escaped Crowley’s lips at the loss of stimulation. He instinctively reached down to finish himself off, but found his hands pinned above his head instead by quick angelic strength.

  
“There now, did I say you could touch yourself?” Aziraphale’s voice was deep and husky, practically whispered into his ear. Crowley shivered and twisted his hips, trying to find some stimulation, but found himself stilled by Aziraphale’s other hand. “You get to cum when you’ve been a good boy. Do you think you can be my good boy?”

  
“I…yes?” Crowley was near tears now, the crest of his orgasm slipping away with every moment. He slumped against the bed as his body cooled, and finally Aziraphale released him.

  
“Very good.” The angel’s tone was soothing, but Crowley knew that bastard energy radiating off of it. He was in for a night, it seemed. Without warning, Aziraphale’s tongue breached him, and he began the slow and torturous climb back up again.

  
Aziraphale brought him close to the edge another three times after that, each more frustrating than the last. He was openly crying now, begging and pleading with every breath, but his cries went ignored other than a soothing hand or a gentle kiss. They’d done this a lot before, and he knew if he wanted this to stop all he had to do was say the word. Aziraphale had always stopped when it became too much before. He didn’t want to stop though, not really. Sometimes the anticipation made the ending all the sweeter. He just had to convince his shaking body of that.

  
“Alright, I think you deserve a reward now, don’t you?” Crowley found himself lifted up so his back was against Aziraphale’s chest, his head resting on the angel’s shoulder. Gentle kisses were pressed to the still-damp hair plastered to his forehead. He burrowed closer, desperately wanting that touch. “Oh, dearest, are you alright? Did I overdo it?”

  
Crowley shook his head, forcing his eyes open. He knew they were blown out, the whites completely gone to snakiness, but he didn’t care. The kindness in Aziraphale’s returned gaze made him melt. “Please,” he breathed, and was satisfied to hear the little moan from Aziraphale’s lips in response.

  
Slowly, he felt himself eased down, the angel’s hard cock slipping into him with almost no resistance. He slumped against Aziraphale, fully trusting him to hold him up as his love sank in to the hilt. He’d missed this so much. A fresh set of tears began making tracks down his cheeks.

  
Aziraphale held him for a moment, though if it was for Crowley’s benefit or his own he couldn’t say. Slowly, he began to move, little thrusts at first, then slowly picking up speed. His hands gripped Crowley’s hips tightly, lifting him up and bringing him down like he was nothing, and the demon had to wrap an arm around Aziraphale’s neck and hold on for dear life.

  
Every thrust hit home, sending sparks shooting up through him. He was definitely going to cum this time, he was sure of it, could feel the angel’s ragged breathing that let him know he was close too. He twisted his neck back to crash his lips against Aziraphale’s, kissing fervently as he felt his orgasm finally hit him like a freight train.

  
He blacked out. He must have. How else could he explain one minute having a mind-blowing orgasm, and the next minute being laid out on his back, staring up at the angel he adored with a soppy smile.

  
“Hi…” He reached up and tangle his fingers in Aziraphale’s curls, drawing him down for a slow kiss. His whole body felt wrung out, sleepy and lazy and boneless, and it took him a minute to realize the thing poking him in the hip was Aziraphale’s erection.

  
“Angel…” He blinked, staring down. “Y’ didn’ cum?”

  
“Er, well, I wanted to wait until you were coherent again.” Aziraphale looked oddly proud of himself, a little smirk playing at his lips. “You were quite, well…wrecked, my dear.”

Crowley snorted and hooked a leg around Aziraphale’s waist. “C’m on then,” he mumbled. Luckily Aziraphale got the hint and slowly sank back into him.

  
There was none of the same urgency as before, not for Crowley at least. Aziraphale avoided any overstimulation, with each rhythmic thrust angling away from sensitive areas. This was always something he enjoyed, though: getting to hold Aziraphale as the angel chased his own pleasure. His hands tangled in those platinum blonde curls, pressing kisses to his cheek and murmuring love and adoration in his ear. More than the sex, he’d missed this. This easy intimacy, that allowed them to be apart for two years and fall back in like not a day had passed.

  
It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to reach his own peak, coming deep inside Crowley with a groan of the demon’s name. He held his angel all through it, until he finally stilled, and they lay together.

  
“Well,” Crowley said after a few moments of silence, “That was a nice Christmas present.”

  
Aziraphale huffed out a laugh and burrowed into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his love. It didn’t take long before the stickiness and the sweat began to be unbearable, and the angel left to get a rag and clean them both up.

  
When he came back, Crowley was holding a small box with a ribbon atop it. He seemed nervous, fidgeting with it in his hands, but set it on the bedside table when Aziraphale came back.

  
“Oh dearest, that’s very sweet. I didn’t get you anything, though.” He began to slowly and carefully clean his demon off, careful of the sensitive bits.

  
“It’s…not really a Christmas gift,” Crowley said. “Something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while, actually. Just never seemed like the right time.”

  
“Oh?” Aziraphale set the washcloth aside and glanced toward the box eagerly. “Well…no time like the present for a present, yes?”

  
Crowley groaned at the wordplay, but there was a fond smile on his face as he retrieved the box and handed it to Aziraphale. He didn’t say a word as the angel removed the bow and unhinged it. Inside was a small silver ring, in the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, its eyes made of brilliant diamond.

  
“Crowley, what…?”

  
“I…I know I’m not always reliable!” Crowley blurted out, not quite looking at Aziraphale. “I take off sometimes and I…I forget to call. I know that. But angel, I…I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving anyone or anything. I want to make a promise to you, that no matter where I go…I’ll always come back to you.” He took a shaky breath, finally meeting the angel’s gaze. “Aziraphale…will you marry me?”

  
Aziraphale looked quickly from the box with the gorgeous ring to Crowley, back and forth as his brain tried to process the situation. Finally, with a shellshocked calmness, he set the ring down on the bed. Before the hurt expression could fully manifest on Crowley’s face, he was pulling off his pinky ring, the one he’d worn since his assignment to Earth, his constant companion for 6000 years. Well…one of his constant companions. He reached for Crowley’s left hand and slipped it onto his ring finger. It fit like it was made for him.

  
“Does that answer your question?” His smile widened as Crowley threw himself into his arms. Wrapped up in each other, they both started when they heard the clock downstairs chime midnight. They both chuckled at each other.

“Happy Christmas, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, pressing a kiss to his demon’s forehead.

“Happy Christmas, Aziraphale.”


End file.
